


The Taste of Your Lips on Mine

by rosetintedlenses (VOlympianlove), VOlympianlove



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hanahaki Disease, Mild Blood, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27191545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VOlympianlove/pseuds/rosetintedlenses, https://archiveofourown.org/users/VOlympianlove/pseuds/VOlympianlove
Summary: Junmyeon spends a year pining, only to realise that he's not the only one.
Relationships: Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Kim Minseok | Xiumin
Comments: 10
Kudos: 34





	The Taste of Your Lips on Mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zvirk77](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zvirk77/gifts).



> omg. okay. This has taken me probably around 7 months to complete. I am first of all, super sorry that this took SO LONG but 10k of angst is HARD (watch me say 10k of any writing is hard) but this was so tricky for me to write because I have ZERO knowledge of how hanahaki works. 
> 
> Here's my disclaimer. As far as I know, it does NOT work in the way I described it in this fic, the flowers don't change, yadda yadda but it's a fictional disease and this is MY damn fic so yes, I wrote it this way, don't come for me pls (prayer hands) Also as far as I know, hanahaki isn't curable? Idk man, again, it's fictional. 
> 
> Also, I'm not a barista, am not well versed in coffee making. Neither am I a doctor. Also, not a smoker so Idk how smoking works except for what I've seen from movies and my ex. 
> 
> Thank you to zvirk for this prompt and I (surprisingly) really enjoyed writing this!

~ cherry blossom spring ~

The first flowers appeared in the spring. They were pretty little things, blush pink with almost mauve centres. Their petals were so soft that they barely tickled coming up. Specks of yellow dusted the white porcelain of the sink, pollen from the blooming flowers mixed into white toothpaste foam.

Junmyeon stared, his heart thudding to a stop in his chest. He touched a petal gingerly, his breath catching.

They were cherry blossoms, he was sure. He had gone through too many seasons in Seoul to mistake them for anything else.

There had to be some protocol for this _infliction_ , some guidebook for dummies on how to react when you throw up flowers while brushing your teeth.

Alas, there was none. Junmyeon would have to navigate it himself.

He went about it by going through his normal routine, a heavy weight settling in his chest. That was normal.

The morning was misty with spring rain sprinkling down. He wound down the windows of his car as he drove into work, enjoying the fine sprinkling of rain that sprayed into the car. Spring rain was always such a joy.

The bell tinkled as he pushed open the door to the bakery.

“Good morning, Junmyeon!” Yixing shouted from the back kitchen and Junmyeon could make out the low grumble of Baekhyun in the background, probably something about his baker being far too cheerful for the hour.

“Morning, Yixing! And Baekhyun,” he said fondly, walking around the counter to give Baekhyun a little pat on the head. The man was slumped over on a bar stool, face planted into the marble.

“Baek! You’re drooling all over the counter!” Yixing exclaimed, popping his head out from behind the kitchen door. There was already a smear of flour on his cheek and a dusting in his hair.

Junmyeon chuckled, plopping his bag down before wandering over to wipe the flour from Yixing’s cheek absently.

“Is Minseok in yet?” he asked, not noticing the way Yixing’s cheeks pinked.

“Nope. Just us,” Yixing replied. He came all the way out of the kitchen, a delicious smell following him. It was sweet, almost fruity in its fragrance and Junmyeon’s mouth began salivating almost immediately.

“Are those raspberry cupcakes?” he asked, his eyes lighting up when he spotted the prettily frosted cakes in Yixing’s hands. “They smell wonderful.”

“Taste. I added some sakura powder that Jongdae gave me,” Yixing said, thrusting the first cupcake into Junmyeon’s hand. He reminded Junmyeon of a puppy, eager for praise as he sank his teeth into the soft cake.

The flavours exploded on Junmyeon’s tongue, the sakura standing out starkly against the raspberry. He choked, the memory from his bathroom resurfacing.

“Are they bad?” Yixing’s face resembled a kicked puppy when Junmyeon set down the cake.

“No! They’re delicious. The sakura’s a little strong though,” he said, wiping at his mouth.

“I put only a pinch in the cake,” Yixing said, blinking.

“Yes, hyung. I can barely taste it,” Baekhyun piped up, looking a little more awake now that he had something sweet. His cake was almost completely gone, just the smallest bite left in the wrapper.

“I-.” Junmyeon’s sentence trailed off when the bell over the door tinkled again.

“Morning.”

His world stopped spinning for a moment when he saw the man stepping through the doors.

Oh.

“Morning, hyung,” Yixing and Baekhyun chorused. Junmyeon squeezed his eyes shut instead of joining them, biting down hard on his lip.

The strong taste of sakura and the blossoms in his sink.

“Junmyeon? You okay?” A hand touched his elbow and he opened his eyes to see Yixing staring at him. “You’ve gone very pale.”

“M’fine. Just need a breather,” Junmyeon muttered, pushing his way past Yixing to get to the back door. He did not see the concerned looks his co-workers threw his way, nor did he notice the way Minseok’s brow furrowed.

The air in the café suddenly felt too thin and the bar too crowded. His chest was tight as if he was being squished in a giant’s fist.

It was still drizzling when he stumbled into the back alley and retched, the taste of sakura petals exploding on his tongue. He spat out the blossom and froze, staring at the stupidly beautiful flower lying on grey concrete.

Fuck.

The pain crushed against his ribs; his heart suddenly too big for its cage. Junmyeon sucked in air, grasping at the wall as he stepped hard onto the flower, grinding it into paste under his heel.

“You okay, Junmyeon?”

It was Minseok, coming out for a smoke. His hair was tousled and he still had his jacket on. He was painfully handsome with the cigarette held between two fingers, in a way that made Junmyeon’s insides twist.

“Good. Maybe it’s the empty stomach,” he said, shaking his head when Minseok offered the stick to him.

“Yixing’s got breakfast ready. He made croissants. Go eat something. I’ll make you a coffee when I’m done.” Minseok nodded his head in the direction of the kitchen and stuck the cigarette between his lips.

Junmyeon could not help but stare as he sucked in, blowing out a puff of smoke that dissipated quickly in the misty rain.

“Yeah- thanks,” he said quickly when Minseok cocked his head, hurrying back into the kitchen before he could say anything stupid.

Yixing’s concerned gaze made him shiver as a croissant was pushed into his hand, Yixing resting a thin hand on his shoulder.

Junmyeon bit down into the pastry, the flaky layers breaking apart in his mouth. He hummed in satisfaction, nodding in Yixing’s direction with his mouth full.

“You feeling better now, boss?” Baekhyun asked, his tone a little harder than before. His eyes were narrowed as he watched Junmyeon devour his croissant.

“Um hm,” Junmyeon mumbled, his cheeks puffing out as he chewed.

“You’ve got crumbs,” Yixing muttered with a fond smile, wiping at the corners of his mouth with his thumb. “Child.”

Junmyeon swallowed his mouthful and stuck out his tongue at him, grinning when Yixing poked him hard. He danced out of the way, taking another bite.

“Yah, we actually have work to do,” Baekhyun scolded, catching Yixing by the arm when he tried to dart after Junmyeon. “Don’t you have macarons to prep, Xing hyung?”

Yixing drooped, pouting. He nudged Baekhyun in the side, patting his shoulder.

“I do,” he said, making big puppy eyes at him. “Won’t you help me, Baekhyunnie?”

Baekhyun swatted at him, though his gaze softened.

“I’m not even done with my own prep, hyung.”

Yixing’s eyes widened and his lips pushed out into a pronounced pout. Junmyeon had to hide behind his croissant to stifle a laugh at how Baekhyun visibly melted. Whipped.

“Fine. I’ll come in after I’ve counted up the float,” Baekhyun grumbled. Junmyeon noted how he turned a very interesting shade of red when Yixing smacked a kiss on his cheek before disappearing back into the kitchen.

He hurried after him before Baekhyun noticed him staring.

“Do you think these will sell well?” Yixing asked when he entered the kitchen. He held a tray of pink frosted cupcakes in his hands, the kitchen fan blowing his hair back and forth. How he already managed to get flour in his hair, Junmyeon would never know.

Little cherry blossoms sat in a neat row on a silicon mat, their centres dusted with a soft gold. Junmyeon hurried over at once, screwing close the pot of edible lustre dust that Yixing had evidently forgotten about.

“You can give them a trial today. We’re running out of the sea salt tarts anyway so you could replace them with these for the day,” Junmyeon said, sighing when the coffee machine whirred to life outside.

Yixing nodded, his gaze distant. Junmyeon watched him pick up the fondant flowers with tweezers, setting them in to the pink frosting with care. It never failed to amaze him how a klutz like Yixing could manage to make the most beautiful cakes and pastries.

The smell of coffee beans being ground drifted through the air. Junmyeon inhaled and immediately felt the tickle of a petal in his throat. He coughed, bringing a hand to cover his mouth.

His vision blurred as he heaved, staggering over to the sink.

“Oh, Junmyeon.” Was the first thing he heard when he could see again.

Junmyeon blinked.

Sitting at the bottom of the metal sink was a single pink petal. It looked unsettlingly artificial, very much like the flowers that Yixing had made for his cupcakes. Just the thought made him retch again, Yixing’s hand rubbing soothingly at his back.

“Do they know?” Yixing asked softly. His expression was sad when Junmyeon turned to face him, flushing the petal down the drain as quickly as he could before anyone else could come in.

“I don’t think so,” Junmyeon answered, chewing his lip. He was surprisingly calm, even the pitiful look on Yixing’s face. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t but you should see a doctor,” Yixing said, “there’s a surgery-.”

“No. Not yet. I- I need more time,” Junmyeon cut him off, swallowing hard. “It’s not that serious.”

Yixing’s expression twisted and he touched Junmyeon’s hand, teeth digging into his lower lip.

“Go before it does get serious,” he pleaded, “take care of yourself, Myeon.”

Junmyeon nodded, gesturing to the half-finished cupcakes in an effort to change the subject.

“Finish up and I’ll take them out. It’s almost time to open.”

Minseok was at the bar when Junmyeon walked out of the kitchen, laden down with Yixing’s cupcakes. He looked up when Junmyeon passed him, flashing a bright smile that made Junmyeon’s knees go weak.

“Need any help?” he asked as Junmyeon slid the tray of cupcakes into the display case.

“I’m good,” Junmyeon said, tasting petals at the back of his throat. He watched as Minseok stuck the nozzle of the milk frother into the steel pitcher, steam billowing into the air. The steamer hissed and the milk frothed to life.

He wandered over just as Yixing came out of the kitchen bearing a tray of Danishes, practically salivating at the thought of finally getting his hands on Minseok’s coffee.

“You’re like a basset hound, hyung,” Baekhyun joked as he slipped on his apron.

“He only likes me for my coffee,” Minseok said and the fond way he said it made Junmyeon’s stomach twist. He scrunched his nose, deliberately swallowing when he felt the petal creeping its way up his throat. The wave of sakura on his tongue nearly made him gag.

“That’s not true,” he said, sidling up to watch Minseok pour the milk foam into a latte cup.

His movements were so swift and sure, it made Junmyeon shiver a little, watching his muscles bunch. Minseok’s brow was furrowed as he concentrated, shaking the pitcher just the tiniest bit as he formed his design.

“It’s a bunny,” he said when he set it down. “I made it up for you.”

“It’s pretty,” Junmyeon said, mildly disappointed. Minseok usually made hearts for him and he had been hoping that things would not change at all.

The soft tinkle of the bell made him straighten, leaning away when another man came striding through the doors.

“Morning, Changmin hyung,” he called, unable to fight the niggling worm of jealousy snaking through his chest when Minseok’s eyes lit up.

“Morning,” Changmin replied with a quick smile. He bent, kissing Minseok quickly on the cheek before reaching around him to grab his apron. “Sorry, I’m late. There was some traffic.”

“Traffic at this hour?” Yixing said, bewildered and then yelped when Baekhyun elbowed him.

“Actually, I overslept,” Changmin said. He laughed awkwardly, picking up Junmyeon’s cup of coffee. The entire cup went down before Junmyeon could protest, Changmin setting down the cup with enough force to chip its bottom. “Ow, hot.”

“No shit it’s hot. Junmyeon likes his coffee extra hot,” Minseok said, “and you just drank his.”

“Oh, sorry.”

He did not look very sorry at all, Junmyeon thought to himself as he watched Changmin saunter away to put on his apron. If he did not draw in as many customers as he did, he would have fired him a long time ago. How Minseok, a man of impeccable taste, managed to fall for him was beyond his understanding.

“I’ll make you another one,” Minseok said gently, nudging Junmyeon. “Stop looking at my boyfriend like you want to kill him, Myeon. It’s just coffee.”

He did not realise he had been staring daggers at Changmin’s back. Junmyeon bit his lip when Yixing and Baekhyun both shot him sympathetic looks, flicking his eyes away to look at the clock hanging on the wall.

“Off to work, all of you,” he said, trying to keep his tone even as he snatched his apron off the wall with more force than necessary.

“Do you still want that coffee?” Minseok asked meekly.

Junmyeon could not bring himself to look at him as he shook his head, fumbling with his apron strings. He cursed aloud, fully expecting Minseok to bypass him when he bumped into his shoulder.

Warm hands on his arms made him stumble forward, hip banging painfully into the counter. He bit down hard on his lip, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Here.”

Minseok’s voice whispered in his ear and he stilled, allowing the barista to tie his apron for him. “You’re so tiny, bunny.”

Junmyeon laughed, hoping he could not hear the choke in his voice.

“You’re shorter than me, hyung,” he said, allowing himself to turn around and smile. He yelped, swearing aloud when Minseok pinched him.

Everyone else turned to look, Yixing shaking his head at them.

“You’re such children,” he said, sticking out his tongue when Junmyeon shooed him away.

Junmyeon rolled his eyes, hip checking Baekhyun when he joined him at the counter, counter rag in hand. A small hand rested on his waist and he softened to allow Baekhyun to lean into him.

“You’re not subtle at all, hyung,” Baekhyun whispered into his ear. Junmyeon bumped his shoulder hard, narrowing his eyes at the way Changmin practically draped himself over Minseok as he poured new beans into the coffee grinder.

“Shut up,” he muttered, forcing the corners of his lips into a smile when the first customer pushed open the door.

The bell tinkled and he let himself get swept up into the routine. Chanyeol was as adorable as ever, asking after Yixing as he paid. Four large Americanos for his colleagues and a whipped cream covered monstrosity for himself that Minseok always whined about but secretly loved making. 

After Chanyeol came a wave of students and businessmen. Junmyeon let Baekhyun and Changmin handle the counters, busying himself serving coffees as Minseok made them. Yixing appeared to help, dimpling sweetly at a grumpy lady in a blazer until she smiled back.

Junmyeon was kept busy until the morning rush had slowed down enough for him to notice that Changmin had migrated over to Minseok’s station. They stood very close to each other, Minseok’s cheeks flushed pink, visibly affected by whatever Changmin was saying.

The taste of cherry blossoms welled up in the back of his throat and Junmyeon choked. He spun around and ran straight for the back kitchen.

Yixing was the only one inside, pulling out loaves of bread from the oven. He looked up in shock when Junmyeon nearly careened into him, staggering over to the sink to spit out a single sakura flower.

“All that just for one flower,” Junmyeon grumbled when he had rinsed the taste of cherry blossoms from his tongue. He glared at the stupidly beautiful flower and rinsed it down the drain, ignoring Yixing’s worried look.

That was a problem for another time.

~ hibiscus summer ~

Summer was the best time for some hibiscus tea. Junmyeon always steeped them the night before and left them to chill.

They always sold well, especially when he stirred them into lemonade. The children loved it.

He got the flowers from the same supplier he got his tea leaves from but perhaps he no longer needed him.

Junmyeon stared down at the sink, unable to believe his eyes.

He had only gone into the kitchen to steal a bite of whatever Yixing was making. His breakfast that morning had been completely non-existent.

The pastry had been delicious, buttery and flaky and the red bean paste the perfect amount of sweet.

Junmyeon could still taste the faint sweetness on his tongue when he gagged again.

“Hyung, have you not seen a doctor?”

Yixing’s hand was warm, heavy on his shoulder _._

Junmyeon shook his head, nausea churning a whirlpool in his belly. His grip on the metal edge of the sink was white-knuckled as he stared down at the beautiful, perfect hibiscus flower sitting at the bottom.

“Do you know who it is?” Yixing pressed.

“Of course, I do,” Junmyeon answered, his tone too sharp. “Do you?”

He turned, sucking in a sharp breath at the pained look on Yixing’s face. His friend looked terrible, sickly and pale.

“I know. I think everyone but him can tell,” Yixing said quietly. “I am sorry, Junmyeon.”

Junmyeon grimaced, his heart practically shrivelling up at the thought of everyone being able to see just how pathetic he was. Pining after a taken man.

“Do the surgery. It helps. I promise,” Yixing said, his gaze far away. “The pain goes away and you don’t remember them anymore.”

How could Junmyeon explain that he did not want to forget? That no matter how much it made his chest ache, how much the pain piercing his heart felt like a dagger being twisted deeper, he wanted to remember.

He wanted to remember what it felt like to love someone so much. Even if it was not reciprocated.

“I can’t. Not yet.”

“Junmyeon.”

Yixing’s tone was hard. He gripped his shoulder, other hand grabbing Junmyeon’s waist to turn him. Junmyeon let himself be hugged, noting how nicely Yixing fitted against him.

It was such a shame that he could not be in love with him instead.

“We need you.”

The words were whispered into his hair, almost too soft for him to hear.

“What are the two of you doing?”

Minseok’s voice echoed in the kitchen, too loud.

Junmyeon looked up to see his head poking in the doorway, a frown on his face. He stepped inside; arms folded across his chest.

“Nothing,” he stammered, worried that Minseok would get the wrong idea.

“I just really needed a hug,” Yixing piped up, releasing Junmyeon with a massive sigh.

“What’s this about hugs?”

Baekhyun poked his head in too, the smile on his face dissolving into a deeper frown when he saw how close Yixing and Junmyeon were standing.

“They were hugging. Junmyeon looked comfy,” Minseok said, narrowing his eyes.

“Don’t worry, Baek. You’re still my favourite to hug,” Yixing chirped, prancing over to wrap his arms around Baekhyun’s waist. He yanked him close before Baekhyun could protest and a yelp sounded somewhere amongst the tangle of arms and Yixing.

Junmyeon managed to fake a smile, slipping past Minseok’s stiff stance to take his place in front of the register.

Minseok’s hand brushed against his waist and he jumped, twisting to stare.

“Your apron’s untied,” Minseok said, raising his eyebrows. “Why are you so jumpy?”

Junmyeon shrugged, his heart thudding rapidly in his chest as Minseok tied up his apron strings. His fingers brushed against his waist and it tickled.

He squirmed, swallowing a giggle. Minseok was smiling when he finished his bow, prodding him hard enough to make him squeak.

“You’re so weird, Junmyeonnie,” he cooed.

“It tickled!” Junmyeon protested, spinning around. Minseok poked him again and he grabbed him, shaking a finger warningly in the air.

“Back to work, both of you.”

Changmin’s voice was like a douse of cold water. He came in from the back door, handing his lighter over to Minseok. Junmyeon had never hated anyone more than he did in that moment.

“You’re not the boss of me,” he muttered, “ _I’m_ the boss.”

“Go back to work, boss,” Baekhyun said from behind him, jabbing a sharp finger into his side. “You’re very pouty today.”

“I’m taking my lunch break, bunny boss,” Minseok said, lips twitching and Junmyeon forgave Changmin a little bit. Maybe.

He watched Minseok twirl the lighter between his fingers, the gesture making his stomach pitch, nerves lighting on fire until Minseok had disappeared out the back.

“You really are a masochist, huh,” Baekhyun commented, leaning against the counter. He was watching Junmyeon with the strangest expression on his face.

Junmyeon made a face at him, picking up the cloth to wipe down the already spotless counter. He did not need someone else to point out just how hopeless he was at this love thing.

The flowers got worse as the days passed. What had started as random little petals became multiple petals a day.

Junmyeon found himself hunched over his sink or toilet far too often on his off days, just hacking up petals. He could feel them, tiny soft things floating around in his throat.

They were too beautiful, for something that would eventually kill him.

Perhaps Baekhyun was right and he _was_ a masochist, pining for a taken man. Refusing to get these _stupid_ flowers cut out of him.

Perhaps he was still dreaming, hoping that Minseok would change his mind. Would turn around and _see_. It was a foolish hope.

Junmyeon spent far too much time thinking about him, about his hands tying his apron strings for him, making him his coffee and coming up with latte art for him.

He never made latte art for Changmin.

“You’re so quiet recently.”

Junmyeon looked up from his musings to see Minseok holding out an iced latte. He smiled weakly, clearing his throat.

A petal tickled at the back of his throat and he coughed, setting down the piping bag to cover his mouth.

“Are you sick?” Minseok asked, setting down the coffee. His brows furrowed and he had the cutest crease between his brows.

It was just the two of them in the shop. Changmin was off sick and Junmyeon had given Yixing and Baekhyun off days in the hopes that they would sort out whatever weird tension was between them.

“No?”

The statement came out like a question, Junmyeon’s voice going high and squeaky at the end. He coughed and the petal rattled insistently in his throat.

“You sound sick,” Minseok said, patting his hand. His touch sparked and Junmyeon yanked his hand back.

“I’m fine,” he muttered.

“Okay.”

Minseok’s gaze burned when he made to walk away, and the guilt hit him like a ton of rocks. Junmyeon swallowed hard, reaching for the latte.

“Are _you_ okay?” he asked.

The air between Minseok and Changmin had been frosty lately. While he had felt a leap of hope, he was not that much of an asshole to wish pain upon his friend.

“I need a smoke,” Minseok muttered.

Junmyeon glanced around the shop. It was relatively empty. No one would notice if they both slipped out for a bit. He picked up his drink, a spark of bravery leading him to wrap his arm around Minseok’s waist.

“Let’s go.”

Minseok’s eyebrows raised but he did not comment, allowing Junmyeon to steer him out the back door.

The sun baked the sidewalk and Junmyeon swore he could feel the burn through his shoes. He sipped at his coffee, savouring the bitter taste on his tongue as Minseok lit his cigarette.

The smoke drifted through the air, its smell turning Junmyeon’s stomach. He despised it.

“You’re going to kill yourself one day,” he said lightly, watching Minseok suck in as if his life depended on it.

Minseok shrugged. He pulled the stick out from between his lips and offered it to Junmyeon, peeking out at him from under his fringe.

Junmyeon took it.

His hands shook when he put it between his lips, trying to ignore Minseok’s surprised expression. He wondered if that was what it would taste like to kiss him, of coffee and cigarette smoke.

“You don’t smoke,” Minseok said.

His eyes burned. Junmyeon inhaled, pulling the stick to blow out a plume of smoke. It curled into the air almost ominously.

“I used to,” he murmured. “I quit.”

Minseok hummed at that, taking the stick back.

“Is it Changmin?” Junmyeon asked when Minseok put it back between his lips.

The way Minseok’s brow wrinkled was answer enough. The silence stretched on, broken only by the sounds of Junmyeon sipping on his latte.

“He’s- being difficult,” he said at last. Junmyeon looked up from his drink, swirling the straw around in the milky liquid.

“Controlling?” he asked. He could guess from the way Minseok shifted away from Changmin’s touches, the way his brows creased whenever they talked privately in the corner.

Minseok shrugged.

“He’s not like the others I’ve dated, that’s for sure,” he said. “Jongdae was never like him.”

Junmyeon wrinkled his nose.

“Please don’t remind me that you dated my cousin,” he said, gratified when Minseok laughed, pulling out his cigarette before he could choke.

“He was one of the better ones,” Minseok said, lips curling into a smile. “Great kisser.”

He winked and Junmyeon shuddered, holding up his hands.

“Stop. Don’t even go there,” he threatened, “I’ll ban you from the coffee machine.”

Minseok laughed again but it fell flat. He stared down at the sidewalk with his cigarette between his fingers and Junmyeon wondered what he was thinking about.

He _always_ wondered what Minseok was thinking about.

“I think about you, sometimes.”

It was said so quietly that Junmyeon thought perhaps it was not meant for his ears. He certainly had not meant to speak his thoughts aloud.

His cheeks coloured and he sucked harder on his straw, draining his glass. The condensation dripped over his fingers, cold and wet.

Minseok’s eyes were like pools when he looked up, heart twisting at the expression on his face.

“What about me?” Junmyeon breathed, fingers squeezing around the glass. Hope was a fragile butterfly beating away in his chest, fluttering delicate wings too close to a candle flame.

Minseok’s gaze cut away from him, back to the asphalt. His shoulders shrugged and he stuck the cigarette back between his lips.

Junmyeon faltered, the petals in his throat catching him off guard. He choked, gagging when they rushed up his gullet.

The glass slipped from his hand, shattering on the pavement as he doubled over.

“ _Junmyeon_!”

Junmyeon waved him off when Minseok caught him, slapping a hand over his mouth. He tasted bile on his tongue, the coffee coming back up sweet and acidic.

“I’m- good,” he gasped, pushing Minseok away. He grabbed for the door handle, his heart catching for a moment when it would not turn.

But then it opened and he stumbled straight into Changmin.

“Junmyeon?”

Junmyeon shoved past him, barely managing to stagger into the bathroom in time to throw up the contents of his stomach. He tasted hibiscus when the whole flower slid out, the colour of blood.

More of them followed, one after the other until Junmyeon was left trembling on the dirty bathroom floor, five whole flowers floating in the toilet.

Sweat dripped down his forehead as he shivered, ignoring the frantic banging and Minseok’s cries.

His breaths came out in short little pants and it was hard to breathe, his lungs suddenly too small for his body.

He sat on the floor for far too long, trying to catch his breath. Pain twisted in his chest whenever he tried to get up and he had to stay there until his world stopped spinning.

“I’m- okay,” he gasped when he finally found his breath. “Just- a bad breakfast.”

Changmin was consoling Minseok. He could hear him through the thin door, softly coaxing him away. His chest lit on fire again and Junmyeon lurched forward, throwing up one final flower.

There was juice on his lips, from the hibiscus petals being crushed between his teeth. It was enough to make his stomach turn again.

Wobbling, Junmyeon dragged himself to his feet.

He glared down at the flowers floating in the toilet bowl and flushed them down with a vengeance, watching them swirl into clear water.

“You’re bleeding!” Minseok cried when he came out of the bathroom. He had been perched very firmly behind the counter, Changmin stroking his back. Changmin’s eyes were narrowed when he glared at Junmyeon, turning his head to away so that he would not have to look at him.

“It’s just hibiscus,” Junmyeon said, “I had it for breakfast.”

He watched Minseok deflate, his heart shrivelling up like a sad little prune when Changmin kissed the side of his head. Minseok barely reacted, his eyes still fixed onto Junmyeon like he knew he was not telling him the truth.

Junmyeon let his lips twitch up into a smile that did not reach his eyes, sidestepping around them to grab a tissue.

He wiped off the juice, returning to the register just in time for the bell to tinkle. A young man pushed open the glass door, hair flopping into his eyes when he shook his head.

“Hello,” he said, voice almost a whisper. “I’m here for that job opening?”

Junmyeon blinked.

He had forgotten about that. The man pushed the flyer across the table, biting his lip shyly.

“I’m Jongin,” he said, “is the offer still open?”

“Our baker’s not in today, but I’ll pass your number along,” Junmyeon said, pulling a chewed up pen out from behind the register. “He’ll arrange a date with you for an interview.”

He _could_ technically do the interview but between the shredding of his heart and the petals dancing in his throat, Junmyeon thought it would be best for Yixing to handle it.

“Oh.” Jongin printed his numbers neatly on the slip of receipt paper Junmyeon pushed over to him, tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration. He was cute but probably too young for Junmyeon. Not that he wanted anybody else other than the person currently sitting in the lap of another man.

His smile was concerned when he handed back the pen.

“I know it’s not my place to ask but are you okay?”

Junmyeon blinked at the question, swallowing down the ball of tears rising in his throat. He nodded, afraid that if he tried to speak, he would end up crying instead.

Jongin’s eyes bored into him meaningfully. He patted his hand before turning his head up to look at the menu.

“May I have a hibiscus lemonade please,” he said, fumbling for his wallet.

Junmyeon choked, the sickly-sweet taste rising like bile in his mouth.

“One moment,” he murmured.

“Junmyeon ah, are you-.”

“Take the register,” Junmyeon cut Minseok off, stumbling back into the toilet to vomit his guts out.

~ chrysanthemum autumn ~

“You should tell him,” Yixing whispered as he handed Junmyeon the mug of steaming hot tea. “Or maybe get the surgery.”

Autumn had come too quickly and caught Junmyeon off guard. All it took was one too cold day without his scarf, his diminishing immune system deciding to give up. It landed him in bed, with a hefty flu and barely any energy to drag himself into work.

Junmyeon sniffled, coughing. Little specks of blood dotted his shirt and he wiped at them, disgusted.

“I don’t want the surgery,” he said petulantly, leaning his head back against the headboard. Yixing’s jaw worked as he rested the back of his hand against Junmyeon’s burning forehead.

“You’re going to die without it, Junmyeonnie.”

There it was.

Junmyeon had not thought about it before. He had pushed it to the back of his mind, hoping and praying that it would not come up.

“Is that- really so bad?” he asked feebly.

Watching Yixing’s expression contort, his heart tripped over itself. He wished he could take the words back now. Wished he had never said them at all. Had Yixing not whispered to him once that they needed him?

He tangled their fingers together, Yixing laying his head in his lap.

“Don’t say that,” Yixing murmured, “please don’t say that.”

“How’s the new baker?” Junmyeon asked, changing the subject. Yixing’s head was heavy and warm over the blanket and his hair was soft as he ran his fingers through the silky strands.

“Fine. He’s cute. Like a little bear. Baekhyun likes him,” Yixing said, turning his head so that Junmyeon’s hand rested against his cheek. “Baekhyunnie likes him a lot really.”

He frowned, chewing at his lip as if he had never thought about it before. Junmyeon smiled to himself, gently tugging Yixing’s bottom lip out from between his teeth before he could destroy it.

“Do _you_ like him?”

He smoothed a lock of hair away from Yixing’s face. Yixing shrugged, pressing his face into the blanket spread over Junmyeon’s thighs.

“Yixing?”

“I like him fine, hyung. He’s really _really_ cute.”

“He’d be good for you,” Junmyeon said thoughtfully, “he’d be good for both of you.”

Yixing wrinkled his nose against his leg, turning to bury his entire face into the blanket.

“Minseok misses you,” he said through a mouthful of fabric, changing the subject. “He pines every day and gets sad when you don’t come in.”

“He has Changmin,” Junmyeon reasoned, combing his fingers through Yixing’s hair. It was getting long. He should text Baekhyun to get him to cut it.

Yixing huffed and it tickled. Junmyeon nudged him hard, laughing.

“They’re not on good terms right now,” Yixing said, “I heard they argued.”

Junmyeon winced.

“Changmin wants to quit and Minseok’s coffee has been really bitter,” Yixing continued, poking Junmyeon’s side with a finger. “You need to get better and come back.”

Junmyeon ruffled his hair gently, grimacing at the tickle starting in the back of his throat. He coughed before he could speak, the petals clawing up like nails.

“Oh Junmyeonnie,” Yixing murmured when he finally spat the blood-covered chrysanthemum out into a towel.

Junmyeon watched him throw it away, crawling into his bed to cuddle with him. He buried his face into the crook of Yixing’s neck, letting the tiredness drag him under.

-

The bell on the door tinkling made him smile and he welcomed the rush of warmth that swept over him when he stepped into the café.

“Junmyeon hyung’s back!” Baekhyun was the first to spot him, rounding the corner of the kitchen to see him standing in the doorway.

Junmyeon grinned at him, carefully wiping his feet on the mat. He unravelled his scarf as he walked, draping it over Yixing’s outstretched arm.

“Don’t treat my boyfriend like your coatrack,” Baekhyun scolded gently, completely backtracking on his words when he took Junmyeon’s coat from him.

“It’s nice to have you back,” Yixing said, wrapping him in a tight hug. His brows still creased in concern however, when Junmyeon coughed a little, covering his mouth with his hand quickly.

“Minseok’s out back,” he murmured into Junmyeon’s ear, “he’s been scaring Jongin. And the customers.”

Junmyeon wrinkled his nose, patting Yixing’s shoulder.

The door creaked when he pushed it open, heart leaping when he caught sight of Minseok leaning against the wall, tossing the stub of a cigarette down onto the tarmac.

“Hey,” he said softly, shivering when a breeze ruffled his hair. He should have kept his coat on, or at least taken his scarf.

“Hey yourself.”

Minseok looked up, his eyes brightening. “You look better.”

In the time that Junmyeon had been off work, he had dyed his hair to a soft chestnut. That, coupled with the leather jacket he wore to keep out the wind, had Junmyeon’s heart racing.

But the hollows beneath his eyes were deep and he looked as if he had not slept in a week.

“I feel better,” Junmyeon said, taking a step towards him. “You don’t look so good, hyung. What happened?”

Minseok snorted, his lighter clicking as he lit another cigarette.

“Broke up with the asshole,” he muttered, sticking the cigarette into his mouth. He blew out a puff of smoke that made Junmyeon’s eyes water. “We fought.”

“What about?”

Minseok fixed him with an unreadable look, straightening up from the wall. He blew out another puff of smoke, holding out the stick.

Junmyeon took it, his skin suddenly too tight as he stuck it into his mouth. It tasted like newspaper and smoke, chemicals on his tongue as he took a drag.

“You.”

He choked, the petals gathering in his throat scratchy. Minseok caught him when he gasped for breath, clawing at his neck.

The cigarette fell from his fingers and onto the ground, spluttering out.

“So-sorry,” he gasped.

“It’s fine. I’ve smoked too many already,” Minseok said, still holding him. His hands were warm against his waist and _he_ was warm in the cold autumn air.

Junmyeon could not help but lean into his arms, still shivering. They were so close, almost too close. Minseok smelled like coffee and cigarettes and laundry detergent.

A strange combination but Junmyeon could not help the way his heart leapt, pounding so loudly in his ears that he was sure Minseok could hear it too.

“I’ve missed you,” Minseok said, so quietly that Junmyeon almost missed it.

His heart stuttered and he turned until they were facing each other, Minseok’s arms still draped around his waist.

“I’ve only been gone a week,” he tried for a laugh but it fell flat between them.

Minseok’s eyes were like pools and he drowned in them, unaware that they were moving closer and closer until he felt the puff of air on his lips.

Junmyeon closed his eyes, letting himself melt when their lips met. Minseok tasted like his coffee, bitter and cigarette smoke. His grip on Junmyeon’s waist tightened, their noses brushing as the kiss deepened and Junmyeon could only ball his hands into Minseok’s shirt and hang on for dear life.

The petals tickled, scraping in his throat Minseok pushed him away, sending him staggering back.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Minseok muttered. Junmyeon would have laughed but the flower was already on its way.

He choked on it, gasping and hacking until the stupid thing came up, landing on the ground. It was beautiful in a macabre way, white petals coated with a thin film of blood.

“What- Junmyeon?” Minseok stared, bewildered.

Junmyeon collapsed back against the wall, shivering when a strong wind whipped across the alley, settling deep into his bones.

“Hanahaki,” he said weakly, coughing again. Minseok shrugged off his jacket, draping it around his shoulders. He leaned into the touch despite the aching in his chest. “Flower disease.”

“You-.”

Minseok’s lips twisted, eyes widening and he looked rather comical like he had just been hit over the head by a very large pan.

Junmyeon laughed, though his chest ached for himself. He unslung the jacket from around his shoulders, thrusting it back into Minseok’s hands. Minseok took it without much reaction, his eyes wide, almost unseeing.

“I’ll- see you inside,” Junmyeon rasped, fumbling for the stupid doorknob. He cursed himself repeatedly as he stumbled back into the warm café, Yixing rushing over at once to fuss over his freezing hands.

His heart was cracked wide open and it was hard to breathe through the pain. He fumbled with his apron; fingers numb as he tried to tie up the strings.

Yixing had to help him, the gesture strange and foreign. Minseok _always_ helped him with his apron strings.

Shame coated his cheeks when he caught sight of Minseok slipping back in, a mask settled over his face. He dipped his head, busying himself with sliding cupcakes that Yixing brought over into the display case.

The kiss burned in his mind, like the too-hot coffee that Baekhyun pushed over to him. It stung going down his throat, searing across his tongue.

He liked it.

The day passed by in a daze, a flurry of customers and him bumping elbows with Minseok far too often. They did not speak, Minseok too busy with the milk frothing or the coffee grinder and Junmyeon would have liked not to speak at all.

He could not decipher Minseok’s expression and truth be told, Junmyeon would prefer not to know. The fact that petals still tickled the back of his throat every time he opened his mouth to speak was enough.

“May I drive you home?” Yixing asked softly when all the customers had gone. The sky was dark outside and Baekhyun had already left. He did not want to leave but Junmyeon had made him.

Minseok looked up sharply at that and his gaze burned into the back of Junmyeon’s head when he coughed, spitting yellow petals into the nearest sink.

Yixing’s hand was warm on his back, his concern evident as he untied Junmyeon’s apron for him.

“Are you taking hyung home, Yixing hyung?” Jongin asked, coming out of the kitchen. His hair and apron were both dusted in flour and he smelled like vanilla and cinnamon. “Should I tell Baekhyun hyung not to save you dinner?”

Junmyeon opened his mouth to speak but all that came up was a hacking cough that had him doubling over, choking up more blood-stained petals.

“Come on, Myeonnie. Let me take you home,” Yixing urged, “or to the hospital.”

He glanced at Minseok when he said this, who had gone very pale.

“Can they do anything for him besides the surgery?” Minseok asked quietly, coming to stand beside Junmyeon.

Junmyeon leaned over the sink, panting. His chest felt like it was being torn apart, his ribs were being broken and reset over and over again and his lungs could not get enough air.

“I don’t think so. It doesn’t magically go away,” Yixing said, fingers smoothing through Junmyeon’s hair.

It felt nice and if Junmyeon could get up the energy to get away from the counter he would say so.

“Jongin, could you start the car please? Junmyeon doesn’t look-.”

“I’ll take him back,” Minseok cut Yixing off, his hand settling against Junmyeon’s waist. Junmyeon turned his head weakly to look at him. His jaw was set and he looked angry.

Junmyeon was not sure what he was angry at. But it was enough to make his heart trip. He coughed again, tasting the sickly sweetness of the chrysanthemum on his tongue.

“But-.”

“We need to talk about what happened,” Minseok said, more for Junmyeon than anyone else. Junmyeon shuddered.

Call him a coward, but he would really like to not be left at Minseok’s mercy. His heart was already tender and he had no idea what he would do if Minseok made it worse.

Minseok’s hand wrapped around his waist, the warmth seeping into his skin through his clothes. His coat was draped over his shoulders and he was bundled up into his own car.

“Give me your keys,” Minseok said when he was buckled up in the passenger seat. Junmyeon pouted, folding his arms over his chest. His heart pounded in his ears when Minseok leaned over, prodding at his side.

“Don’t be a child, Junmyeon. We need to talk.”

“So, talk,” Junmyeon said, curling into himself when Minseok poked him again. “You don’t have to drive me home.”

“Junmyeon.”

Junmyeon faltered at the way Minseok looked at him, biting hard on his lip. He fished out his car keys, dropping them Into Minseok’s palm.

“I didn’t mean for you to find out like that,” he blurted as Minseok started the car, hoping the revving of the engine would disguise the tremor in his voice.

“Did you ever mean for me to find out at all?” Minseok asked, tone harsh.

The car peeled out of the parking spot as Junmyeon cringed into his seat, not daring to meet Minseok’s gaze.

“You were- happy. I couldn’t take that away from you,” Junmyeon said, squeezing his hands into fists as they drove down the road. A light drizzle had started, the world turning cloudy around them as rain began to fall.

“So that’s it? We just watch you die?” Minseok said sharply, turning the steering wheel with more force than necessary. “Isn’t there anything that I can do?”

“I don’t know,” Junmyeon murmured wearily, leaning back. He was tired, his throat ached and the petals were like claws, raking at his gullet like a rabid monkey in a cage.

They fell into silence, listening to the rain grow heavier and heavier outside. Junmyeon did not know he had fallen asleep until Minseok shook him.

“Hey.”

Through the grogginess, Junmyeon saw Minseok leaning over him, smiling so fondly that his heart twisted. He coughed hard, a stray petal making its way up his throat and into his lap.

Minseok’s expression twisted and guilt pooled in Junmyeon’s gut. He did not mean to make him sad.

“Come on, Myeonnie. Let’s get you inside.”

The rain pattered onto the both of them, soaking into Junmyeon’s coat. He shivered, huddling deeper Into Minseok’s arms and Minseok indulged him, hugging him close until they had fumbled their way into the apartment.

“Stay,” he whispered, trying to burrow his way back into Minseok’s arms when his coat was taken from him.

He knew he would regret it, begging for Minseok to stay but the rain had awoken the mind-numbing _loneliness_ that Junmyeon had not taken notice of in a long time. It clawed at him, seeping into every pore and clogging up his throat with a lump.

“I will,” Minseok whispered.

Junmyeon let him take his coat away to be hung, let him lead him into the bathroom. He was _weak_ and he wanted Minseok, even if it was for a single night.

“Do you- want me to kiss you?” Minseok asked when they were both naked in the shower. The glass had fogged up and the water rained down on them, almost too warm. Still, Junmyeon shivered.

“Do you want to?” he whispered, leaning back. He gasped when the glass touched his back; it was still cold despite the steam.

Minseok’s face was barely visible amidst all that water, droplets trickling down his cheek.

“I-.”

“Because I want you,” Junmyeon murmured, hands on Minseok’s hips. “I’ve wanted you for _so_ long that I’m-.”

“Dying for me,” Minseok finished, his eyes dark with sorrow. Junmyeon faltered, tracing the path of a single droplet trickling down Minseok’s face with his eyes. He followed it to his lips, where Minseok flicked out a tongue to lick it away.

“Don’t do it because you pity me,” Junmyeon said, “do it because deep down inside, you loved me too.”

Minseok’s expression crumpled, his hands cupping Junmyeon’s face. Junmyeon took an unsteady breath. The petals in his throat tickled again as the silence stretched on, accompanied only by the sound of the water falling all around them.

“I don’t want you to feel like a rebound,” Minseok said at last, “and I don’t even _know_ if I love you. I don’t know if I know how to love at all, Junmyeonnie.”

“Then why’d you kiss me at the café?” Junmyeon asked. The silence that followed was answer enough.

Junmyeon leaned forward, catching his lips. He tangled his fingers into Minseok’s drenched hair, tugging him until they were chest to chest. Minseok’s arms wound around his waist, heart beating strongly against him. He smelled like rain and tasted like cigarettes and his favourite cold brew.

He did not know how long they kissed like that, wrapped up in each other’s arms with water falling all around them, thunder rumbling outside.

“We should probably get out,” Minseok murmured at last, when the water had run cold. “I’m racking up your water bill.”

Junmyeon snorted and then choked.

The flower tore up the insides of his throat when he coughed it up, blood splattering onto the shower tiles.

“Junmyeon!” Minseok exclaimed when his knees buckled. He collapsed into Minseok’s arms, nearly sending both of them onto the slippery shower floor.

“Sorry,” he gasped as Minseok opened the door, yanking a towel free from the rail to wrap around him. “I got blood all over you.”

“Save your breath,” Minseok said roughly, hugging him close. The mirror was all fogged over when he got them out of the shower, Junmyeon shivering violently in his arms.

Somehow, he managed to get Junmyeon into a sleeping robe and onto the couch alone, when Junmyeon was almost dead weight in his arms. Junmyeon liked how he looked in his clothes, pottering about in the kitchen. He did not know what he was doing but when a delicious smell floated out into the living room, his stomach rumbled.

“I made soup,” Minseok said, coming out of the kitchen bearing a bowl that smelled heavily of chicken and ginger. “Can you stomach it?”

Junmyeon did not have much of an appetite despite his stomach rumbles but he managed to eat half the bowl before he decided that napping against Minseok’s warm body was much more productive use of his time.

“Are we- going to try this?” he asked when Minseok put aside his bowl to play with his hair. Fingers scratched against his scalp. Junmyeon practically purred at the sensation, reclining deeper into Minseok’s arms.

Minseok let him in, letting his hands fall from his hair to rest on his waist. Soft pressure on the top of Junmyeon’s head made his lips twitch.

“I wasn’t in love with Changmin.”

The confession was quiet but it rang loud in Junmyeon’s ears. It rattled him all the way through his body, like a bell that had been shaken too hard.

“Can you love me?” Junmyeon murmured, tilting his head back. Minseok’s lips pressed against his forehead and he sighed into the kiss, relaxing into a little puddle.

“I don’t know, but I’m willing to try.”

~ plum blossom winter ~

Junmyeon did not know what he was expecting but it certainly was not for his sickness to worsen. He was happy as the leaves turned from red to orange to brown, soft to brittle.

The flowers turned from yellow and white chrysanthemums to plum blossoms, soaked in red. He awoke one day choking on them, scaring Minseok half to death.

“Junmyeon!” Junmyeon was too busy coughing to pay much attention.

Blood splattered all over the sheets as he hacked up four tiny, delicate blossoms. They were beautiful little flowers, speckled on their navy sheets.

Arms wrapped around his shoulders as he coughed, Minseok pulling him close to his chest. Junmyeon shuddered, sinking into his warmth once the coughing had subsided.

“You’re very hot,” Minseok whispered, his hand freezing against Junmyeon’s too warm forehead.

“Thank you,” Junmyeon wheezed, cracking a smile. That earned him a gentle whack on his arm before Minseok pulled him closer, resting his chin atop his head.

“I’m taking you to a doctor,” he murmured softly, “we need to get this sorted out.”

Junmyeon whimpered in reply, nuzzling into the soft skin of Minseok’s throat. He kissed his Adam’s apple, closing his eyes as Minseok stroked gentle fingers through his hair.

The world was soft and cottony when he opened his eyes again, cradled in Minseok’s arms. He was sitting in the bathtub, warm water rinsing down his arms.

A toothbrush was handed to him and he grabbed It with numb fingers.

Minseok’s smile was downturned at the edges as he brushed his teeth, shivering until a fluffy towel was wrapped around him. It was almost methodical; the way he was helped into sweatpants and the softest jumper that he was positive belonged to Minseok. It smelled like him and he could not help but snuggle into it.

“May I have your scarf?” Junmyeon asked when he regained enough consciousness to tie up his own boots. “It smells nice.”

Minseok snorted, shaking his head. But still, he picked up his own scarf from the rack, draping it around Junmyeon’s neck.

Junmyeon grinned, dancing a happy dance despite the rawness in his throat. He smiled even wider when Minseok hooked an arm around his waist, drawing him close to press a kiss against his lips.

“Why’re you so happy?” Minseok grumbled when they pulled apart, “we’re going to the doctor’s.”

“Because I’m with you,” Junmyeon said simply, tangling his fingers into Minseok’s. “It’s enough.”

Minseok blushed as he opened the door, Junmyeon gasping at the shock of cold wind that slapped him in the face.

The first snowflakes were falling as they made their way to Junmyeon’s car, hands still entwined.

“I got this doctor’s number from Yixing,” Minseok said as the engine rumbled to life. “He said he specializes in Hanahaki disease.”

“Why does Yixing know a specialist in Hanahaki?” Junmyeon asked. He settled into his seat, snowflakes flurrying past the window as they drove onto the main road.

Minseok shrugged.

“I don’t know. Didn’t ask.”

Junmyeon had a very good idea why, recalling the dreamy, distant look on his friend’s face when he had talked about the surgery. Had Yixing suffered from the same disease?

He shook off the thought, swallowing hard. Yixing was fine. He had Baekhyun now and possibly Jongin. It was hard to tell with those three constantly dancing around each other.

A soft hand tweaked his nose and he wrinkled it by habit, pulling a soft laugh from Minseok. His lips twitched up at the sound. He did so love Minseok’s laugh.

“What are you thinking about, bunny?” Minseok asked, taking a left turn. The road narrowed significantly as they drove through the snow-covered streets, surrounded by apartment complexes.

“Yixing,” Junmyeon answered honestly, “and whether he had to go through this on his own.”

He waved his hands in a vague gesture, choking when a plum blossom found its way up his gullet uninvited.

“You think Yixing had the disease?”

“Why else would he know a specialist?” Junmyeon reached over and Minseok tangled their fingers together, laying their hands behind the gear stick. Junmyeon’s stomach pitched pleasantly when Minseok looked over at him, one hand on the steering wheel.

“That’s true.”

Right past the apartment complex was a clinic, its sign speckled with snow. Minseok reversed into a parking spot, his hand never leaving Junmyeon’s except to shift gears and it helped settle the butterflies that had suddenly made an appearance in Junmyeon’s stomach.

“You feeling okay?” Minseok asked when he had cut the engine. He looked over, brushing the tips of his fingers against Junmyeon’s forehead. “You’re still a little warm.”

Junmyeon nodded, unbuckling his seatbelt. He kissed Minseok’s thumb when he cupped his cheek, smiling when Minseok looked away, ears pinking.

“I’ll be okay.”

The door was silent when Minseok pushed it open, herding Junmyeon inside. The room was clean and white, the floor so shiny that Junmyeon’s boots squeaked.

The receptionist looked up as they approached, his young face brightening before the smile faded.

“Oh dear,” he said softly, rising to his feet. “You’ve got it really bad.”

“Can the doctor fix it?” Minseok asked roughly, one arm looped protectively around Junmyeon’s waist. “I’m- I’m the one-.” He stopped and Junmyeon could not help but hug him, swallowing the flower that had risen up in his throat.

“I don’t know. You’re Yixing hyung’s friends, aren’t you? Let’s get you checked in and Doctor Dyo will see you in a bit.”

The doctor’s office was neat and tidy and there was a little glass cage in the corner that Junmyeon could not help but inspect. It housed a little bearded dragon who only blinked lazily at him when he waved.

“Kim Junmyeon?” He turned when his name was called, settling back into the seat beside Minseok. His limbs were too heavy and all he wanted to do was sink into the chair and maybe disappear.

“That’s him,” Minseok answered for him, running a hand through his hair. “He’s not feeling too good today.”

Junmyeon made a soft noise of affirmation, lacing his fingers with Minseok’s.

Doctor Dyo was younger than he had expected, in a white lab coat and glasses that made his eyes look bigger.

“And you’re the partner.”

It was not a question. Doctor Dyo scribbled something in his notepad and reached for his stethoscope, his movements methodical.

“Yes. His symptoms are only getting worse. Is there anything you can do?” Minseok asked as the stethoscope was pressed against Junmyeon’s chest. Doctor Dyo made a soft noise as he listened, moving the cold metal over Junmyeon’s throat.

Junmyeon coughed, slapping a hand over his mouth when the petals clogging his throat jumped. They scratched and made his throat ache.

“Not much. I can give him pain meds and something to bring the fever down but he’s going to have to fight it off on his own.”

“Doctor, this isn’t a cold.” Minseok sat forward with a frown. “It’s a disease that’s _killing_ him.”

“Only if his love isn’t reciprocated,” Doctor Dyo said matter of factly. He walked back to his desk, scribbling more things onto his notepad. “And as far as I can see, it isn’t unrequited love anymore.”

“What- what kind of diagnosis is that?” Minseok spluttered.

“The disease has to run its due course. I’ve seen worse than this. Mr Kim will be fine after this winter, if my calculations are correct. Just keep him warm and loved and the petals will go away.”

There was more mumbling between Minseok and the doctor but Junmyeon tuned out of it. Just knowing that he was going to be okay, that Minseok was right for him was more than enough. He was fairly sure he had been prescribed some medication for the sore throat and the hacking but the fever took hold again, turning the world blurry and cottony.

Junmyeon swore he only closed his eyes for a moment, just rest them when the lights became too bright but he awoke in the passenger seat of his car. There was a little plastic baggy cradled in his lap, Minseok’s scarf wrapped securely around his neck.

“How did I get here?” he asked blearily, the bag rustling when he sat up.

“We wheeled you out.” Minseok looked over, face breaking into a fond smile. He reached across to swipe a thumb over Junmyeon’s nose. “You were a very sleepy bunny.”

Junmyeon wrinkled his nose at him, snatching for his hand. Minseok let him have it, lacing their fingers together as he drove. He kissed his knuckles playfully, grinning when Minseok’s ears pinked.

“Stop that or I’ll crash the car.”

They drove in comfortable silence, Junmyeon dozing off somewhere between the third and fourth song playing in the background.

The days passed slowly and Junmyeon relished every single one of them. They both took days off and Junmyeon consented to closing the café for a period while his health dwindled before recovering.

He curled up on the couch, half-asleep, watching Minseok step out onto the balcony for a smoke. The wind blowing in from the half-open window dug into his bones despite the three layers of fuzzy blankets Minseok had piled onto him.

Minseok’s hair was speckled with white when he came back in, reeking of cigarette smoke that made Junmyeon cough and wheeze. He settled on the far side of the couch, nudging Junmyeon’s mug of warm tea across the coffee table.

“You should quit smoking,” Junmyeon offered between hacking coughs. “The smell makes things worse.”

He sipped his tea. Minseok looked at him, contemplative, before digging his box of cigarettes out of his pocket.

“If that’s what you want, bunny. I’ll do it for you.”

Junmyeon beamed, rewarding Minseok by cuddling up to him. The smell of cigarettes still clung to him but he snuggled in anyway, nestling his head into the crook of Minseok’s neck.

Minseok laughed at him, but pulled him in even closer, dropping a kiss onto the top of his head. He tangled their hands together beneath Junmyeon’s layers of blankets and Junmyeon had never felt quite so warm before.

“Do you think Yixing had someone to take care of him like this?” Jumyeon asked, breaking the comfortable silence. He shimmied down to lay his head into Minsoek’s lap, keeping hold of one hand.

Minseok stroked gentle fingers through his hair, pursing his lips.

“Is that what you’ve been thinking about?” he asked, tweaking Junmyeon’s nose.

“I just think I’m lucky, that’s all,” Junmyeon said, wrinkling his nose in response. Minseok’s gaze grew fond and he leaned down, pressing his lips against his forehead.

“I think I’m lucky too, Junmyeonnie,” he said, thumbing over Junmyeon’s cheekbone. “I think Yixing is doing just fine now.”

Junmyeon hummed, kissing Minseok’s thumb when it brushed by. He grinned when Minseok’s cheeks flushed, sitting up to catch his lips. Minseok gasped against him, hands flying to cup his face.

He smelled like his cigarettes and tasted like coffee as he nipped at Junmyeon’s bottom lip, licking over the bite. Junmyeon parted for him, trailing fingers through his hair. He looped his arms around Minseok’s neck, tugging him closer until he was surrounded by nothing but _him_.

Snow brushed against Junmyeon’s fingers, cold and wet. He curled fingers into Minseok’s damp hair, tugging gently until he moaned against his lips. Hands pressed against Junmyeon’s cheeks and he made a desperate sound when Minseok pulled away.

“Enough now, bunny. You need rest and this isn’t resting.”

Junmyeon pouted when Minseok tapped his nose but did not resist, nuzzling into his chest happily when he was enveloped in his arms. Even the slowly dwindling amount of flowers in his throat could not take away his joy.

Sitting there, wrapped up in blankets and Minseok, was the most content Junmyeon had ever been. He could get through anything, if only he had Minseok by his side. 


End file.
